


like the atlantic

by stupidgaytree



Series: Femslash February 2019 [6]
Category: Cookie Run (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Family, Fluff, Gen, Legends, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 20:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17690411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidgaytree/pseuds/stupidgaytree
Summary: The child was alive, and they were searching, endless, for a legend they have known all their short life. With the help of the animals guided by their conch shell, they scoured the sea floor, reciting verses of an old poem to help them all look where they couldn't. Even though the sea tugged at them, beneath the surface was unknown and dangerous. No one had ever taught them to swim.





	like the atlantic

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!! im a little late and a LOT sleepy, so ill keep this short. todays prompt was "the moon", and like, How Could I Not.

Once there was a pirate who lived happy on his ship. He loved gold, like most pirates, and a select few would testify he had a heart of the stuff, too -- but they were hard to find. None if that much matters, because this tale is not about him, but rather the child he saw once, gliding by through the water on a whale's back as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

 

The child had a sailor's hat and outfit on; the pirate's first thought was that he was seeing the drowned ghost of a proper sailor. But their skin was luminous as the moon, their hair the color of sea spray, and when they turned to look back at the pirate, their eyes were shallow pools. And they smiled, softly.

 

He didn't see them long enough to say hello, and soon they were gone, as if they'd truly been a ghost all along.

 

But they had not. The child was alive, and they were searching, endless, for a legend they have known all their short life. With the help of the animals guided by their conch shell, they scoured the sea floor, reciting verses of an old poem to help them all look where they couldn't. Even though the sea tugged at them, beneath the surface was unknown and dangerous. No one had ever taught them to swim.

 

The child was looking for a sword. For you see, the child had been alone all their life except for the whale they sat on and the dolphins that cackled around them. They did not want the sword to fight or to sell; they remembered it in their mother's words, and in her hands, and they _longed_ for some scrap of that time. They wanted nothing more than to prove their mother true -- and just maybe to find her again. After all, they'd heard other legends since, about a fairy of the sea frozen as she reached for the moon she loved, and her vital sword toppled from her hands.

 

The sea holds many sad stories.

 

The child was nine when they found it. It felt clumsy in their grip, heavy, like something to grow into. Carefully, they held it to their chest, bent, and whispered to the whale. 

 

They began their second search. 

 

To find a statue of ice in an ocean is a different task than to find a sword. After a long, long time, though, nearly two years, they found it.

 

The Sea Fairy was smaller than the child had imagined her. They'd thought of a giant, maybe, but the Sea Fairy is just… a person. Her hair melds flawlessly with the moving water around it, the ocean spray finding her face just in the right way to streak tears down it. Her mouth is agape, her arms grasping at air, her chin tilted to the sky.

 

“Now or never,” the child tells the whale, and it floats close enough for them to reach up and place the hilt of the sword into the Sea Fairy's outstretched palm.

 

They close their eyes, hear sudden gasps after gasp, then a cry and they are being swept up in strong arms.

 

“You found me,” the Sea Fairy whispers, “Oh, my child, my heart, do you remember me?”

 

“Mama,” the child says, trying out the word on their tongue from their place nestled into her warmth. “I heard stories.”

 

“Oh, my dear,” the Fairy sighs, and then says, “And the moon? Do you remember the moon?”

 

“She was kind,” whispers the child.

 

“She _is_.”The Sea Fairy gathers up the child properly in her arms. “We'll go to see her know,” she murmurs, “She hasn't met you before. She'll love you more than you can imagine.”

 

The moon does love the child -- she sweeps them from the fairy's arms and into her own and weeps, and the child wipes her face clean. “It's okay,” they say, “We're all here now.”

 

The moon laughs. “We are,” she says, “And you're our little hero.” 


End file.
